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“She was looking at me like I was the entree tonight! What even was that?”
“That was Carol Ruthers. She’s touchy, and she owns half of Netflix. I should have warned you,” I said, snagging us two flutes of champagne. Sebastian downed his in one gulp.
“And you … put up with that?” he exclaimed.
I sighed. “I sort of have to.” I took a sip of my drink and spotted some friends across the room.
“But they’re not all bad, remember? Here, I want to introduce you to someone,” I said.
I discreetly pointed in their direction. "Sebastian, that is Mr. and Mrs. Thompson—they run a hotel chain on the west coast. I went to school with their son."
I grabbed his hand, and we walked over together.
“Becca!” Mrs. Thompson exclaimed.
“It’s lovely to see you. How are your parents?” Mr. Thompson asked.
"They are doing well." I turned to Sebastian. "This is my fiancé, Sebastian Steele."
They exchanged pleasantries.
"Yes, the Boston real estate tycoon," Mr. Thompson declared.
"My reputation has proceeded me," Sebastian chuckled.
"It certainly has." Mr. Thompson sipped his drink. "I could use a man like you. The market in California is a bear, and we were thinking about expanding to the east coast. Twenty years ago, when I took over the business, things were difficult but manageable. Now the hospitality industry is ..." he chuckled before continuing, "a word I won't say in the presence of our lovely women."
I smiled. Little did Mr. Thompson know Sebastian swore like a sailor. Sebastian said, "Twenty years ago, I was at the start of my career, but I noticed the beginning shift in the market."
Business in most of California was different than in Boston. People tended to get right to the point, and they didn't care about your family's history or if you were a member of a prestigious club.
Mrs. Thompson grabbed my elbow. "While the men talk shop, I would love to introduce you to Madeline Klein. She runs the most amazing boutique in LA. She does these upcycled dresses. She actually signed a deal with Anthropologie,” Mrs. Thompson gushed.
“Oh, how wonderful. I’d love to meet her,” I replied. I waved at Sebastian as Mrs. Thompson whisked me away. He gave a cartoonish salute and grinned. I was glad to see he was having a good time after our disastrous first event in Boston. To my surprise, I’m not the only one who knew how to mingle in this relationship. Sebastian schmoozes with the best of them throughout the night. He claps shoulders, chuckles at dad jokes, and reveals his business card from the interior of his suit jacket with a magician’s showmanship. Meanwhile, I got sucked into a vortex of obsessive wedding planning. Women asked me endless questions about my dress and whether or not I’d picked a china pattern.
Sensing my desperation, Sebastian returned to my side, looping his arm around my waist.
“Ladies, would you mind if I steal my fiancée for a second?” he asked, kissing my cheek.
“Oh, you two love birds go right ahead!” one of the ladies declared.
Sebastian ushered me away, and I finally exhaled. “Thank you,” I said. “If I had to hear the phrase ‘table setting’ one more time, I was going to start screaming,” I said.
Sebastian laughed. “It is getting hot in here. Want to take a moment outside?” he suggested.
“That’d be great,” I said. We snuck out of the room and slipped into the elevator. Sebastian and I exited the elevator. We walked out of the front door and onto the lawn. The scent of eucalyptus hung heavy in the air. We strolled until we found a secluded miniature garden off to the side, away from the madness of the stuffy ballroom.
I slipped off my heels. We walked along a cool stone path that meandered through the garden, observing the flowers. The moon hung low in the sky. Sebastian found a bench, and we sat.
“Look what I found,” Sebastian said, unsheathing a bottle of champagne from inside his suit jacket. I burst out laughing. No wonder he seemed especially bulbous when we were in the elevator.
“Did you steal that from the bar?”
Sebastian shrugged. “No one was looking. It’s not like they’re gonna miss it. We’re next door to a vineyard.”
I cackled. “You’re a genius.”
Sebastian grinned and fished his keys out of his pocket. He slit his key along the foil wrapping that covered the top of the bottle and popped the cork. Champagne spewed all over both of us. I scooted away so it wouldn’t ruin my dress.
